lancerusfandomcom-20200213-history
The Burning of Dimlight, part 2
Laulterec’s introduction was cut short as a cry from outside the town hall jolted his attention away from Greyne. He jumped from his seat and quickly crossed the room to where Eberrus lay, braced up against the wall. “STAY PUT!” He roared as he burst through the front doors of the building, Greyne could just barely make out what looked like smoke rising above the skyline of the town before he slipped from consciousness once more. Greyne was jolted awake once again by the sudden smell of smoke filling his lungs and an intense heat beating against the right side of his body. Though his vision was foggy he was able to make out what was happening around him. The majority of the building was on fire with the highest concentration of flames to his right and directly in front of him completely enshrouding the door. He pulled against the ropes securing him tightly to the chair beneath, but they showed no sign of giving way. Knowing he didn’t have much time before the fire spread Greyne shifted his weight forward so that he was on his legs and ran straight back hoping there was something solid behind him… there wasn’t. Greyne barreled through the door, pushing it and the unsuspecting Hand of Men soldier behind it to the far wall of the small room shattering the chair, door, and the collarbone of the mercenary in a loud crash. Greyne quickly rolled to his feet, grabbing one of the broken legs of the chair and brandishing it as a weapon towards the remaining person standing in the room. He quickly realized it was one of his own and started to lower his weapon. “What’s happening here, why is th-“ Greyne started to question, but he was cut short by a sharp slash towards his gut. Only his fighter’s instinct kept him from being disemboweled though he still suffered a long shallow cut to his stomach. “Shoulda’ known it wouldn’ be that easy, but makin’ sure ya stay dead is what I was brought for.” The mercenary said through a sharp smile. He wore the black leathers of The Hand, but Greyne couldn’t remember ever seeing him in training, or the caravan on the way here for that matter. Greyne put up a defensive stance, all the questions he had could be answered after he made it out of this fight. The man rushed at him, his approach full of openings, He led with a careless thrust aimed towards the right side of Greyne’s body. Greyne parried the thrust out wide and struck at the man’s elbow forcing him to drop the sword and scream in pain, then rotated his body around and broke the chair leg over the side of the man’s head knocking him to the ground. Before the man could steady himself Greyne picked the sword up off of the ground and stabbed it through the mercenary’s leg and into the floorboards beneath pinning him in place. “Now you’re gonna answer all of my questions quickly and concisely” Greyne said over the screams of the fallen man. “Who sent you?” The faux Handsmen just screamed in pain, so Greyne slapped him to garner his attention. “WHO SENT YOU?” Greyne screamed at him. “RHUDAU!” The man cried out “Rhudau sent us, to kill you… said you’d… used up your, usefulness” He spat out in between hollers of pain and bouts of tears. “Why would Rhudau want me dead, I’ve done so-“ Greyne started but realized the man had fallen unconscious. He pulled the sword from the man’s leg, wiping the blood off on the unconscious mercenaries sash and turned to leave. He stopped just before the rear door to the room and glanced back. “So this is the real Hand of Men, this is what I’ve spent my life fighting for” He muttered to himself. He took a step back towards the unconscious man and raised the sword above his head, shouting with rage and bringing it down into the man’s neck severing it cleanly. He started to move towards the unconscious man he had left under the door across the room but realized the flames had spread during the struggle so instead he turned and burst through the door into the cold night air. Greyne weaved through the streets, sticking to the shadows. He slowly made his way to the edge of the village with only one last sprint across a small cobblestone bridge between him and his freedom when he noticed that there was someone standing at the mouth of the bridge. His heart sank when he made out the features of the man by firelight. Thanor stood facing the main street with his small punch hanging loosely at his side and his sword resting against the walls of the bridge. Greyne stepped out from the cover he had been hiding in and yelled out “Thanor!”. The old man instinctively reached for his sword until he recognized the voice. “Greyne?” he called out quietly “No, no no, you can’t be here.” “Because I’m supposed to be dead?” Greyne yelled, the anger clear in his voice. “Quiet yourself, boy” Thanor said, just loud enough to be heard. “You need to get out of here now, before they find you.” “Before who finds me?” Greyne yelled back “My ‘Friends’? My ‘family’? This bullshit coven you and Rhudau forced me into?!” his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and fear. Shouts started echoing from the streets leading to the bridge. “We’ve found ‘em” “This way” “Thanor’ll take him out” “Gods damnit boy, you know there is only one way you can leave now.” A sadness entering his voice as he picked his sword up and hoisted his shield up to his normal stance. Greyne felt defeated, what could he do now. His mentor stood before him blocking his escape from the one sanctuary he’d known, The Hand. He only had one option, he ran at Thanor, from sparring him so many times he knew he had a tendency not to attack when he was on the defensive so he pressed him thinking he could throw him off guard and then run by. He threw a shot in a spot he knew Thanor would easily block, but the block was not there. He made eye contact with his mentor and just before the hit connected on the grizzled vets neck a small smile formed on his lips, “With this, you’re free” He whispered as the sword cut his throat. End of Part 2 Category:Character lore Category:World Lore